The Greenhaired Gryffindor
by I'mJustWhoIAm
Summary: Zoro, on the way to the bathroom, suddenly finds himself in a crowd of eleven-year-olds wearing black robes. Worse, he himself has been turned into an eleven-year-old. Will he survive Hogwarts long enough to get back to his crew? T for swearing. Sorry, this story is ON HIATUS (having writer's block, and fanfiction just isn't inspiring anymore.)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** My first attempt at a crossover, starring, of course, my favorite Strawhat. I believe this will stay as a oneshot, unless I get enough positive feedback to make it into a series. Please enjoy! I sincerely apologize if the characters seem OOC. Review if you want!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the characters or places in this story.

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><p>Zoro was lost. Very, very, very lost. Which, considering who he was, wasn't a surprise, but this lost was even worse than his usual type of lost. No, this "lost" was the what-the-hell-happened, why-the-hell-am-I-here, where-the-hell-is-this, and how-the-hell-did-I-get-here-when-I-was-trying-to-find-a-toilet lost. And, he realized, being lost was the least of his problems. In fact, foremost among his worriess was the fact that he had shrunk to the size of an eleven year old. And that there were ghosts, and that everyone around him was wearing this weird long black cloak thing. He wondered if it was some type of fashion statement, and whether this was their uniform and they were some type of trainee Marine. It didn't help his poor frazzled brain that they were all his newfound size, and were all clutching some sort of wooden stick. He unconsciously touched his swords' hilt and was reassured to feel their comforting weight at his hip.<p>

A girl with bushy brown hair and a bossy look nudged him. She reminded him slightly of Nami. "What are you doing without your robes on?" she hissed. "And don't you know that dyed hair is against the school rules?" It took Zoro several moments of dumbfounded silence to process that he was in some type of school, and a few more minutes to understand that the black clothes were the school uniform. "Where am I?" he demanded, glaring, deciding that getting un-lost was probably his first priority. The girl stared at him, shocked. "You don't know where you are?" she repeated incredulously. "You're at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, for goodness' sake! How can you be here and not know where you are?" He shrugged, wondering what "witchcraft" and "wizardry" were. Were they some type of unknown Devil Fruit, perhaps?

Fortunately, a stern and official looking woman spoke at that moment, black hair caught up in a strict bun and imperious gaze sweeping over them. They stopped briefly on a young boy with unruly black hair, thick clumsy glasses and piercing, neglected green eyes, before moving on and finally resting on Zoro's abnormal hair. After wondering at the new student's blatant disregard for rules, she finally chose to wait until later to stress the importance of obedience. "Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the hall, you will be sorted into houses..." Zoro tuned her voice out, still wondering how he had gotten to this "Hogwarts" place, and what he was doing here. And it wouldn't hurt to know what these "houses" were either. He heard her say something about eating, sleeping and having classes with one's House, and that they were called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin, but the rest of her words' meaning was lost on him.

Finally she turned around and strode into a large dining hall with four long tables, where children aged from twelve to seventeen sat, chattering away to the people sitting near them. The woman told them all to get into line, and he obeyed, figuring that maybe obeying would help him make sense of this impossible scenario in the long run. Zoro gazed up in awe at the ceiling of the dining room. The winking stars calmed him down as he remembered the many nights spent on the ship's deck, staring up at the beautiful, clear night sky, the sound of laughter reaching him from down below. He wondered idly how the others were doing without him and whether they were worrying about him. Well, the shit-cook surely wasn't, in any case, the swordsman thought, snorting.

Loud, raucous singing filled the large hall and Zoro saw with a start that it was coming from a ratty hat. He stared at it dumbly. Hats did not talk, much less sing. Definitely not. Unless it was some sort of Devil Fruit. Yes, that had to be it, it was because of a talking Devil Fruit. He drowned out the small voice in his mind that was protesting against such an irrational explanation.

When the rag stopped singing, the woman took out a list of names and instructed them all to sit on the stool with the hat when their name was called. The first mate watched, fascinated, as "Abott, Hannah," was called, and the hat roared "HUFFLEPUFF!" The girl ran off to sit at a table, a relieved grin spreading across her face. Names continued to be called, and the girl who had scolded him for his clothes was put in Gryffindor.

Zoro was surprised when an awed hush fell over the crowd when a "Potter, Harry!" was called. He glanced over to see the nervous raven-haired kid the professor had been eyeing before set the hat carefully on his head. It sat quietly for a short while before announcing, "GRYFFINDOR!" A deafening cheer swept through the whole hall, though he noticed that one table in particular was sullenly silent.

The list finally reached the R's and then passed, without Zoro's name being called. It bothered him, somehow, though he knew he did not in the least belong here, so it was normal that he had not been summoned. The woman started to roll up her scroll and put away the stool after a "Zabini, Blaise" was placed in Slytherin. An old man with a long silver beard and half-moon glasses covering twinkling blue eyes noticed him and frowned. "Minerva, are you sure you did not miss anyone?" he asked, the sparkle now gone. "I am positive, Headmaster," she confirmed, following his look and noticing Zoro standing there, seeming quite lost and confused. "What is your name, boy?" she demanded, irritated. "Roronoa Zoro," he replied, his stance oozing intimidation and annoyance. She checked her list once again. His name wasn't there. She turned to the Headmaster for an answer. "How can this be? This is the first time such a thing has ever happened," she pointed out tartly. Albus Dumbledore turned to face the green-haired boy, smiling benignly, though his expression faltered slightly when he noticed the three swords. "How did you get here, my boy?" he asked. Zoro shrugged. "No idea. I was looking for the bathroom, went through a door and the next thing I knew I was here." He decided no to mention the fact that he had been nineteen before he arrived.

Dumbledore cocked his head curiously. "Odd, odd," he murmured, gazing at the swordsman. He could sense the magic within the boy, but why his name was not on the list was a mystery even to the great wizard. "Very well. Can you use those weapons?" Zoro placed a hand protectively over them and shot back contemptuously, "Of course." Even though he now only had the size and strength of an eleven-year-old, he could still use them. A few teachers sitting at the table muttered at his tone, but the Headmaster quieted them with a glance. He twinkled his eyes at the swordsman and requested, "Minerva, please sort him." She nodded. Restless gossiping was exchanged between the confused students. Zoro sat on the stool, wearing the hat, and reluctantly allowed it to rummage through his head.

"_Hmmm. Difficult. Ambition, in great amounts, but no cunning. Reckless bravery, but also surprising loyalty. Definitely not Ravenclaw. No, nor Slytherin._" Zoro clenched his fists, willing the hat to get over and done with it. "_You do possess great loyalty, but to no one other than your captain. And yet. Well, I guess it had better be_ **GRYFFINDOR**!" The last word was shouted, and followed by light clapping. Zoro plucked the hat off his head and went to sit amidst the Gryffindors.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not any own any of the characters or places in this story. I am not making any money off of this.

**A/N:** Here is the second chapter of my story. Because of the long wait, I decided to make it decidedly longer. I apologize in advence for any eventual spelling mistakes. Don't ask me what the chapter's called, I'm really terrible at making up titles. On another note: Thank you all so so so much for everyone's amazingly awesome reviews! I'm really happy people noticed my unoriginal fanfic and took the time to read it. You're all great!

For any who may or may not be wondering, I really don't know when I'll end this or when Zoro goes back to One Piece. I don't even know whether I'll be dedicated enough to this story to actually complete it. But I'l try, since you guys are awesome enough to give me the chance. Anyway, onwards we go!

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><p>An hour and a delicious meal (though, loath as he was to admit it, not as delicious as one of Sanji's) later, Zoro was still feeling completely lost. And he still hadn't changed back from this eleven year old form. At least his clothes had shrunk to fit him and he remembered all of his life. And he seemed to have retained his initial nineteen year old strength. But still, all in all, not a good day.<p>

The Headmaster-Dumbledore, if he remembered correctly-dismissed the students and they all trooped off, following their respective prefects. Zoro suddenly felt someone walk up behind him, intent on reaching him. He whirled around and recognized Professor McGonagall. She pursed her lips and stared at him. "The Headmaster wishes to see you," she finally said after a long pause. Something in the boy's look had, for a moment, frightened her, though she couldn't figure out why.

Zoro glared at her, then relaxed. He nodded his understanding of the woman's words. "Where?" he half-grunted. The professor frowned at his disrespectful, uninterested tone, but decided to leave that for later along with the whole dyeing-your-hair-is-bad-and-can-lead-to-cancer-and-is-against-the-school-rules affair. She turned around and swept off, Zoro treading slowly, thoughtfully and curiously behind her.

The two reached the well-known gargoyles after a short walk. "Twizzlers," the older one muttered, glowering at the statue. Zoro briefly wondered what the word meant before the monster leaped aside to reveal a revolving staircase. His guide gestured for him to step on it and followed suit. The stair immediately sped up and brought them in seconds to a beautifully ornate door.

She knocked, and a kindly voice bade her to enter.

They strode in, Zoro trailing a few steps behind her. His whole body was screaming for him to be wary: the person before him was a worthy adversary. He listened to that voice in his head, the amazing intuition that had saved his life many more times than he cared to admit. A twinkling blue was turned upon him; but for a moment, Zoro thought he could perceive the cunning manipulating gears spin in the old man's head. Those eyes, seemingly so innocent, so guiltless, spelled danger.

He glared at the Headmaster, as was his wont; Albus merely smiled and offered him a lemon drop. He accepted, wondering what it was, and popped the curious yellow pastille in his mouth. He gagged, nor expecting for it to be so sweet. The candy tasted odd; lemony, but with a hint of something else within it, an aftertaste of truth. He frowned. "What's in this thing?" Zoro demanded shortly. A brief flash of surprise and suspicion crossed the old man's face. "It is nothing. Now, dear boy, how did you get here?"

Zoro felt his mouth open and almost begin to spill his secrets against his volition before he snapped it shut. He shook himself; all the training he had done was to be able to control his body. He was not surrendering to some weird sugary ball.

Albus stared at him, astonished. The emotion lasted on his face a few moments more than the previous look, but like its predecessor, it quickly disappeared. "My boy, there is no need Ito be suspicious." Zoro snorted: Like hell there was no need! He'd only been shrunk, brought to another world and compelled to divulge all his secrets by some bizarre Devil Fruit, but other than that, everything was absolutely fine!

He glowered at the Headmaster and finally made up his mind. "Tell me exactly where I am and what the hell am I doing here and I'll tell you how I got here," he challenged, looking straight into the old coot's deceitful eyes. "Language, young man!" Professor Mcgonagall admonished him, but neither acknowledged her, too intent on staring into the other's eyes. Both refused to look away. Finally Dumbledore nodded. "But you shall have to tell me where you were before first, because I will probably not be able to explain satisfactorily otherwise." Zoro nodded, accepting the veracity of the statement. "I was on the Thousand Sunny. I sort of... got lost on the way to the bathroom and ended up here." Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "The Thousand Sunny?" he repeated. "Yes; our pirate ship," the swordsman explained impatiently, though his voice held a hint of pride for the beautiful craft.

"Where are you from?" Albus asked, the twinkle in his eyes gone. "Grand Line," Zoro replied shortly. "Grand… Line?" Zoro couldn't believe it. "You don't know what Grand Line is?" he asked, astonished. Dumbledore shook his head. "This is England. Here, tell me if you can recognize this place." He tapped the desk and a large map appeared. Zoro stared at it, perplexed. "I've never seen a map like that," he declared, before adding under his breath, "and God knows I've seen far too many of them, thanks to Nami." Professor McGonagall looked from one to the other, bemused. These people truly were mysteries.

Zoro concentrated, intent on figuring out for once and for all if this was just a trick. He suppose that here, people could use Devil Fruit powers without eating them by doing some random wave of their hands, so he tried imitating the same hand gesture as the man (minus the stick thing, of course) while concentrating on his memory of what a map of Grand Line looked like. A piece of parchment appeared next to the glowing map of the Earth.

Professor McGonagall openly gaped: the boy had used wandless magic! And at such a young age too, despite the many wards drawn over Hogwarts. Zoro was just as surprised, if not more, that it had worked. Albus ducked his head and examined the map, though curiosity fair burned in his eyes. "I've never heard of Grand Line. As for my part of the bargain... You are at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where people learn to control their magic and channel it through their wand. But I must confess that I do not know how or why you are here. There are stronger and wiser forces in the world than me." Zoro nodded: he would have to be content with that explanation. "I believe that for the moment you should remain here and go through your schooling at Hogwarts while we attempt to figure out how you got here and how to send you back." Zoro nodded again. "I assume that you do not have anything with you other than what you are currently wearing?" Albus asked, lifting an eyebrow, realizing that the boy before him was rather taciturn. Zoro nodded a third time. "Fine; I shall send you to Diagon Alley with-hmm, not Minerva, she has work to do, Pomona can't leave her plants, Poppy must stay at the infirmary, I believe you shall have to go with Professor Snape." Professor McGonagall narrowed her eyes in shock and what Zoro recognized as apprehension and worry. He wondered who this "Snape" person was to arouse such a strong reaction in the usually stern lady.

Albus walked over to a ornately carved stone fireplace in the wall. A shelf hung over it, with several tine of different sizes and shapes. He grabbed a handful of powder from one and tossed it into the fire. Green flames flared up. "Professor Severus Snape's quarters, Hogwarts," the Headmaster intoned, who proceeded to stick his face in the fire, complaining slightly about how he was "too old for this".

Zoro's initial impulse was to stop Dumbledore from burning himself, but he immediately quelled the reflex. After all, everything seemed to be different here, and green flames probably didn't hurt or something. He stored the information away for future reference. "Please come see me, my boy," the Headmaster said genially to the fire before stepping back.

A few moments later, a man stepped gracefully out of the fire, his long curtain of wavy black hair obscuring a pale, sternly chiselled face set with emotionless coal eyes and a prominent hooked nose. Black robes billowed around his tall frame and his lips were twisted in a perpetual sneer. "Lemon drop?" the Headmaster proposed, eyes twinkling. Snape turned down the offer, his sneer deepening as he cut straight to the point. "Why did you call me?" The Headmaster's smile widened. "I wished for you to accompany Zoro to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies." Snape glared first at Albus then at the small boy whose mere presence annoyed him. "And why would I do that?" he demanded angrily. "I have potions to make, tests and homework to-" He was interrupted by the Headmaster raising a wrinkled hand. "You have the choice," Dumbledore said in a tone that clearly implied the Potions Master had absolutely no choice. "But he's a Gryffindor," Snape hissed, disgust evident in his voice. Professor McGonagall opened her mouth to protest but was cut off by Dumbledore handing over the list of first year supplies. Snape glowered but strode over to the flames. Zoro did not budge. "Well, what are you waking for, boy?" the Potions Master barked. Zoro stared blankly at him. Albus requested gently, "Be patient wih him Severus. He comes from another world and does not know our customs." Snape sighed irritatedly, praying to whatever god existed up there that he would manage to keep his temper reined in for the whole trip.

"Come here," he ordered. Zoro, still baffled by this "magic" thing and starting to understand that this wasn't just some weird Devil Fruit, obeyed. "Take a handful of the powder, throw it in the fire and yell, 'Leaky Cauldron'. Can you remember all that?" Zoro bristled at the insult that reminded him overly much of Sanji but nodded anyway and executed the professor's commands. He felt himself being spun around violently then spat out. He stumbled, but managed anyway thanks to his amazing reflexes to stay on his feet. Snape exited the fire calmly and elegantly a moment later. He raised an eyebrow at the green-haired boy, seeming surprised and slightly disappointed that he was not lying flat out on the ground. Zoro shrugged and looked around the shabby tavern they had appeared in. Many seemed to know the intimidating professor, if not personally then by sight, and shrank back fearfully.

"Follow me, Mr Roronoa." Zoro snorted. "Call me Zoro. Only the Marines call me Roronoa." Snape raised another eyebrow. "You will address me with the proper respect, Mr Roronoa. Who are the Marines?" "Enemies," Zoro replied brusquely, ignoring the part about respect. "And I am not your enemy?" Snape interrogated, wondering just who (and what) this brat was. Not many had the courage to stand up to the snarky bat of the dungeons.

In a flash, the boy had moved and something cold, hard and sharp was pressed against his throat. Snape reached for his wand but the boy, recognizing a stick like the one Dumbledore had, was quicker. He grabbed it and threw it a few feet away. Snape looked away from his precious wand to see a curved, purple and black tinted steel blade expertly held against his neck in Zoro's firm grip. "If you were my enemy, you would have noticed and tried to take my swords a long time ago." Snape frowned and glanced down: three scabbards, two full and one empty, now hung from a green band at Zoro's hip. Snape stared; they had most certainly not been there before. His eyes would have picked them out immediately, trained as he was to be a spy. A Vanishing or Invisibility spell? But the boy seemed not to have cast a charm on purpose. Could it have been accidental? If he had done it subconsciously, those swords must mean a lot to him. He gulped, remembering the speed with which Zoro had attacked (which, as it happens, had also taken Zoro by surprise. He had been wondering if he still had all of his abilities.) This boy was interesting... especially for an eleven-year-old.

"Don't tell the old geezer," Zoro demanded, eyes glinting with-what? Anger? Suspicion? Dislike? "I won't," Snape forced himself to say. "Swear it," Zoro said, pushing a bit harder against Snape's white skin. A drop of crimson blood pearled on his neck and drifted downwards. "I swear I will tell Dumbledore neither about your swords nor about anything you have told me," he promised.

A band of leaping fire bound their wrists together. Snape's eyes widened. Impossible. An Unbreakable Vow? But there were no witnesses, and no wands either, for that matter. "Good," Zoro said, satisfied, and the rope faded away. He walked over to where Snape's wand was and tossed it back to him. The man caught it and using that brief moment of eye contact between the two of them muttered, "Legilimens." He entered Zoro's mind only to find it as perfectly toned and controlled as his body: a thorough search revealed absolutely no cracks in his Occlumency barriers. Snape retreated, completely shocked. How could this be possible for an eleven-year-old? Zoro smirked at his confusion. "I trust you will say nothing about that to the old geezer either." Zoro turned around and after a moment of silence asked, "So, where are we going anyway?"

Snape's hands twitched, as if eager to throttle the brat in front of him. Instead, he sighed and tapped a brick in the wall before them. The stones shifted to reveal a magical world filled with sights and sounds the likes of which Zoro had never even imagined. "Welcome to Diagon Alley," Snape announced gruffly, feeling some of his ego restored at the amazement and confusion displayed in Zoro's eyes. He grabbed the brat's arm and dragged him off. A few minutes later they stood before an impressive marble building, with large wooden doors and an ominous poem carved onto them. "Gringotts," Snape explained curtly, "the bank."

Snape hauled Zoro inside and stood before one of the goblins. "I would like to access the Hogwarts vault." The goblin peered at them. "Of course, of course." Suddenly he did a double take. "Would you by chance be Mr Roronoa Zoro?" Zoro nodded, disgruntled. "There is a vault for you here, though I am afraid you will have to pass a memory test. Please, follow me." The short creature led them into a small stone room. "Now, please stay still for a moment," the goblin ordered before placing his hands on Zoro's forehead. "Yes, yes, no doubt about it; you are indeed from Grand Line." Zoro frowned; nobody had known about him so how come this person did?

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><p><strong>AN:** Okay, I know, weird place to stop but I'm bring lazy and can't bother to write more (this is, after all, already four pages). Hope you guys like this!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I do not own One Piece nor Harry Potter. I am not making any money off of this. I just luffles them to bits.

**Author's note:** Wow, finally got a new chapter done! I am so so so very sorry for the long wait (but, just saying, get used to it. I'm very lazy when it comes to personal deadlines). Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon, since I have it written on paper, just can't bother to type it up. But I do owe it to all of you, especially all the awesome people who took the time to review. Thanks everyone, you really made my day :D. Anyway, onwards we go.

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><p><strong>A Shopping Trip with Snape<strong>

The creature held up a key, completely ignoring Zoro's surprise and curiosity. He shoved the key into Zoro's hand, tapping the boy's forehead a moment before giving a terse nod. "All is in order. Follow me." The goblin pivoted and made his way to a medium-sized door set in the wall. The boy stared at the key a few moments, perplexed. The light glinted dully on the time-weathered iron. The thick middle was topped by a small ring carved with a flowing "D." Zoro shrugged and shoved it in his pocket. Snape,ever suspicious, narrowed his eyes and set off after the goblin and asked, "Who set up this vault?" the goblin made no sound of having heard. Instead, he ushered them onto a rickety wooden caryt perched atop a steel ramp. Damp stone walls lent an oppressive feel to the torch-illuminated tunnel. The light , but all members of the expedition were used to darkness.

Once they were all uncomfortably seated on the rough bench, the bank manager pulled on a red lever and muttered a number. They lurched forward, slow at first but quickly gaining speed. Suddenly they were in free fall, apprehension growing, as there seemed to be no end to the mossy grave. The cart crashed onto the track again, and veered to the right, almost throwing out its passengers in the process. Finally then terrific ride ended, and the goblin nonchalantly hopped out, unmoved by the ghastly speed and near heart-stopping experience. He stroked the moldy rock. The illusion melted into an intricate mess of interlocked gears delimited by stainless steel bars. "Key," the goblin demanded, reaching out a clawed, wrinkly yellow palm. Zoro handed it over, fascinated by the mechanism despite its headache-inducing qualities.

He inserted precisely the wrought iron object into a small hole in the middle and turned it sharply. The gears groaned and slowly rumbled in on themselves, divulging a treasure trove of gold, silver, bronze and jewels. A small pile of time-weathered books reigned in a corner while coins twinkled alluringly in a mountain on the stone table at the center of the room. Zoro breathed out, awed in spite of himself by the glittering cave. He lifted an eyebrow and commented under his breath, "The sea witch would go crazy if she could see this." A bag was shoved into his hand by his guide. He clutched it like an anchor to reality and turned to the glowering Potions Master. "How much do I need?" Snape shook himself from his stupor and replied, "Take 100 gold Galleons, 200 silver Sickles and 50 bronze Knuts." Zoro nodded and carelessly swept money into the pouch.

A half an hour later, they exited the bank. "Ollivanders'," Snape explained curtly, shoving his student towards a narrow and shabby store with peeling gold letters over the door that spelled out, "Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C." In the shop window lay a faded purple cushion on which rested a smooth wooden stick. Snape propelled Zoro through the door and seated himself on a chair near the door. His demeanor indicated that he was uninterested, but his eyes, glittering with something indescribable, belied his interest in the boy's power.

Ollivander peered down at him with wide, shining, pale eyes. At his back rose messy stacks of narrow, dusty boxes. A calming but discomfiting silence pervaded the room unbearably, silence that was only interrupted by a soft, crackly voice. "Odd… No known parents, and yet… Not a muggleborn, nor a pureblood, no, not any type of this world's blood… Such great power…" A tape measurer hovered over Zoro's body, measuring the eleven-year-old's wrist, finger, hand, forearm length. The old man whirled around and grabbed a box seemingly at random from the pile. Zoro took the wand only to immediately drop it as if burned. "Pick it up, you dunderhead," Snape ordered, sneering. Zoro glared. "Can't," he bit out. "Do it," the professor snapped. His tone brooked no protests. Zoro smirked. "All damage is on your head." He stooped down agilely and picked it up, swinging it slightly. "Stop!" Ollivander shouted, but it was too late. A powerful tornado erupted from the tip, destroying a shelf and scattering boxes everywhere. The wandmaker grabbed the faulty instrument from Zoro's grip. Snape cast a look of loathing at Zoro, annoyed that he had been proved wrong (not that he would ever admit it) and muttered, "Reparo." The shelves flew back together and rearranged themselves.

The wandmaker frowned, silver gaze boring through the youth before him. "As I thought, powerful, too powerful for just one core," he muttered to himself. After a brief moment of hesitation, he tapped his unbreakable yew desk with his wand just above the bottom of one of its legs. A slab of lighter wood shifted. Ollivander probed the opening with two pale, calloused fingers, eyebrows furrowed, and slid out a small bundle of seven wands of pure black wood, ornately carved with ancient symbols and concealment, protection and restraining runes. Ollivander offered Zoro one. The boy took it and waved it offhandedly, not really looking at it. The shopkeeper shook his head and took it back as a wave of acrid smoke poured from its rounded end.

Another wand. Zoro flicked it and marveled as a deluge of fireworks in bright colors, red and green and yellow and blue, sparked from its sharp steel-covered tip. The swordsman examined it carefully; made of obsidian wood, drawings spiraled over its long dark body. The hilt ended in a knob of white marble. A grin slowly stole over the boy's face as he recognized a small carving where his index finger rested to be a straw hat. "Adam wood; double core of sea king scale and ice phoenix feather. Half of our world and half of yours." Zoro frowned, confused. How could the old man know he was not from here?

He shrugged. Thinking too much was a pain; besides, he figured he would discover the reason later. "Thank you," he said gruffly to the wandmaker. "How much?" Olliwander waved the proffered money away, stating that the puzzle had been enough pay in and of itself. Zoro nodded in tacit gratitude, and strode off with Snape.

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><p>Anyway, I'll reply to all reviews now.<p>

Chadanaiy: Thanks so much for encouragement, and, as always, you are the best friend I could ever hope for and the awesomest person I know (including myself. No arguing.) Thanks, also, for pointing out how cr*ppy my writing sometimes is, and for giving me some pointers on how to actually make a plot exciting. Love you!

TheBlackSeaReaper: Thanks! Hopefully, will do soon!

goldenqueenofthecove: Thanks for the encouragement! And it hopefully will be interesting and unique.

An0nymous: Thanks! And here's your update and hopefully another will soon follow :3

bowlfullofcherries: Thanks!

BOBOBOBO: Thanks! Honestly, Zoro is my favorite character, and to me, he is the strongest and most badass person ever. In my mind, he could probably even beat Luffy, so yes, he would beat everyone even as an eleven-year-old =3

ladyuuki16: Sure!

keiriala: Yup! It's more just sheer force of will; he bends magic into the form he wants it to take. The swords are invisible to everyone but him except for when he uses them; it'll be a bit before anyone other than Snape sees them in use. Harry just started, like Zoro. They're both first years in the same dorm even. As for that... Well, the goblins, like all the other creatures in this story and some more gifted humans know that he's from the world of One Piece. They don't actually know who he is though.

Faux Reves: Thanks! And, of course!

Zaralann: Thanks!

Fancyfair: Thanks! Zoro's my favorite character too. I totally admire him.

ThisAintMakeBelieve: Sure! Sorry for the wait! As for the wand, it's in this chapter. No, he will not die his hair a normal color, despite McGonagall's best efforts. He will wear robes. And I'm perhaps thinking of making Malfoy good; otherwise, he will indeed kick the ferret's ass.

Ida95: Thanks! And, maybe, but metamorphmagi are not that common.

Fuyu-Ookami: Will do. Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

Madam Malkin's was next. Zoro growled and fidgeted as the seamstress fussed and fitted. He just wasn't that social of a person. While with his crewmates, he often used the excuse of a deeply meditative sleep to be around them and enjoy their antics and presence without having to join in, but that didn't really seem to be an option when he was being fitted. He snorted as he thought of Sanji's reaction. He would probably be scandalized that his rival was changing pants. (Of course, he did that back on the Thousand Sunny, too, but all his pants looked the same.) At least he was allowed to continue wearing black, but the robes felt awkward and off balance to the swordsman.

After that visit, they moved on to Flourish and Blotts. The crisp scent of the newly cut and bound parchment was oddly comforting as the pirate remembered Robin and Chopper endlessly poring over any ancient historical records or precise scientific and medical books they could lay their hands on. Nami would enjoy reading some thick tome on navigation, sun bathing down on her bikini-clad skin, Sanji prancing around her, goggling perversely at her curvy figure. The owner of the bookstore was fearfully helpful and scurried around hurriedly under Snape's weighty glare. His portly figure threatened to upturn him on several occasions, but he managed to stay upright the whole time. Quite soon, a large pile of scholastic texts had been amassed on the counter. Zoro wandered around, gaze flitting over the bright, noisy books that squealed for attention. He found he rather preferred the somber, leather-bound tomes. One, particularly alluring, was inscribed with deep silver letters that read 'Obscura: A Comprehensive Guide to What Defines Dark and Light Magic' by Behem Othan. A rather long title, he mused, staring at it. A slim brochure beneath it yelled at him to pick it up, but instead he reached out and plucked 'Obscura' from the shelf. The clerk, passing by, squeaked in fright and ran away from him. He frowned, wondering what that was about, and asked Snape if he could buy the book. The professor eyed him calculatingly but nodded. Zoro was a puzzle, and Severus was not born with brains, logic and genius for nothing. He would figure out this boy.

The Apothecary was their next stop. Zoro watched, bemused, as Snape transformed in an instant from sullen, greasy git to full-fledged, impassioned and learned Potions Master. An almost contented light glinted in his cool coal eyes as he dragged Zoro around, sniffing and carefully examining each ingredient before choosing one and gently placing it in the proffered bag. He was likewise picky about the pewter cauldron, and made sure to get the most precise set of scales possible. Potions really were his great love, Zoro reflected.

Zoro was amazed he had not gotten lost yet, but realized that he had a very good guide. Following Snape was like following a cloud: they were both easy to pick out and walk after, and both were quite accurate. Nami would probably disagree with the latter, but she had no right to disagree, seeing as she was always getting them lost or moving the ship to a weird place. Okay, so he didn't have the greatest navigational sense ever, and sometimes took a teeny bit longer to get places than the others (he usually arrived, oh, say an hour or two after Luffy, who, as it happens, was invariably the before last person to arrive at the destination), but still, Nami didn't seem to understand the north was up, south was behind you and east and west were respectively to your right and left. Oro frowned. Only Luffy ever understood his directions. Maybe that meant something. No, no, he shook his head, he couldn't possibly be wrong.

The pair had, somehow, also come to an agreement: Zoro would call him "sir" as respectfully as he could manage it, and Snape would make an effort to not deliberately antagonize him or "act like the shit-cook" as Zoro kindly put it, to which Snape raised an eyebrow and told him to mind his language, sounding exactly like the snarky hypocrite he was.

Zoro suddenly remembered a vital element to his training as he glanced into the window of the sports store. The newest broomstick (was sweeping some kind of famous activity here?) gleamed brown and white through the transparent glass; a Do-it-Yourself grooming kit hung next to it; a long, razor sharp silvery fencing sword lay proudly on its rack; but what attracted his gaze were the long thin bands that advertised 'Magic weights: choose any weight from 1 to 200 kilograms!' "I need to buy weights," he insisted, and after a few minutes of long, inevitable, useless, sarcastic and biting bickering and protesting, Snape allowed himself to be pushed inside and led to a shelf full of the newest magical innovation in working out. Zoro grabbed one and bounced it up and down on his hand. The small white plastic tag read '20 kg.' An instruction manual told him to say out loud the weight he wanted. "What is a kilogram?" Zoro questioned his companion, puzzled. Snape crossed his arms, keeping his lips firmly squeezed thinly shut. "Is two hundred kilograms heavy?" he asked. Again, Snape was silent. Zoro shrugged and said, "Two hundred kilograms." Meh, so 200kg (as the tag now read) was about the weight of those huge boulders he used to train usually. He could live with that.

Snape felt his eyes widen. This—this brat was carrying 200kg as if it were nothing! And even worse, the boy—no, freak of nature or something like that, began tossing the weight from one hand to another. "Hmm, not too bad," Zoro mused. He finally decided on four of them, one for each limb and proceeded to the checkout line. Snape lowered his gaze, not wanting Zoro to notice the confusion and annoyance in his smoldering black eyes. The boy was too damn perceptive for his own fucking good.

"One pet," Snape read, bored. "I would recommend an owl, as they are renowned for their faithfulness and are also efficient for delivering letters." Zoro shrugged uncaringly, which the Potions Master took as his cue to lead him to Eeylops Emporium. The two strolled through the din of birds chirping, toads croaking, cats meowing and snakes hissing, not seeing anything interesting. The smell of animal droppings was overwhelming, and the variety of colors was quite the intense blur. A tan owl nearly adorned the professor with its white excrements, but Snape managed to avoid the attack at just the right minute. Zoro found his professor's scowl of wounded dignity and irrevocably damaged ego rather amusing. The two were about to give up on the fruitless search when Zoro noticed an owl downing its food in record time. It hooted excitedly upon seeing the greenhaired boy and flapped its wing hard, too hard apparently for the poor creature flopped over and toppled from its perch, still squawking happily. Zoro grinned, eyes flitting over the creamy white torso and light tan head. One wing was slightly crooked, and Zoro suspected it had been a mite too exuberant one day and hurt itself on the unyielding and unforgiving vindictive iron bars of the cage. But the bird did not seem to realize its freedom was cut off forever; a laughing light gleamed in its dancing beady black eyes. Somehow, the bird reminded Zoro of Luffy with its voracious appetite and endearing (though often irritating at the same time) antics. He bought the owl (it turned out to be male; he was even more sure that it was channeling Luffy) and named it Kaizokuo. Snape lifted an eyebrow at that, but Zoro did not deign to explain the meaning of the name nor why it was in Japanese (nor did he explain how he knew how to speak English; that, my dear readers, shall forever remain a mystery*). He was quite sure Snape would not understand.

*That, my friends, is called poetic license, so there. **Sticks out her tongue** Nah!

Next up: Zoro and Snape's return to Hogwarts. Zoro also gets to meet his new roommates. And even (if I'm not too lazy) will have his first class.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Really, do you think anything has changed? Nope! Rowling, one of the most wonderful women on the planet, still owns it. Am I raking in cash from this story? I wish. (Aka, the answer is no.)

A/N: Greetings ye faithful followers of my story! I am very pleased that you actually like this story enough to read it. As it happens, reviews make my day so I would love it if you dropped me a message. I hope this update's not too incredibly late and of course apologize for my supreme laziness. Also, a heartfelt thanks to Chadanaiy who has being trying to help me figure out what I actually want to with this story (well, he's over legal age isn't he? *shifty eyes* So many possibilities... *evil laugh* Anyway... I think that's all I had to say... Except for saying that all my reviewers are in my opinion the awesomest people on this site and I adore you all! On that note, onwards with the tale of Zoro's badass!

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><p>The sky was inky black marred by pale silver specks by the time they once again approached the rowdy tavern. The light flooding through the grimy windows was swallowed by the impermeable darkness, and so the small form with the glittering weapon pressed to the throat of the taller figure was merely a delicate shadow barely detached from the backdrop.<p>

"You will not tell the Headmaster anything you have learned about me," the boy hissed. Snape repeated the words, sneering. The sensation of fiery ropes tightening around his wrists surprised him. Books on wizarding vows were vague as many tended to avoid such potentially lethal bonds, and the spy had only once before made an Unbreakable Vow. Even then, he had never once needed to renew the promise; the nightmares of gentle smiles and sparkling emerald eyes were certainly reminder enough. He wondered whether the sensation was normal considering the circumstances or whether the whole Vow was a total anomaly. The question was mentally added to the list of experiments to hopefully perform with this most interesting test subject.

Shouting, hiccups and glass chimes greeted the pair; cheerful torches bathed the room in a mellow brightness. Both had already eaten dinner, so they didn't stop. A fistful of powder and the flames danced high, cool and green. A cry of "Hogwarts, Dumbledore's office," and a wrenching sensation later, both were upright next to Albus Dumbledore's fireplace.

The orange bird sang a sharp trill of welcome, slowly swinging on his perch. Official papers and documents were stacked on the desk, waiting for the Chief Mugwump's attention. Books lined the cozy wooden shelves. Only one element was a missing from the scene: the Headmaster genteelly sipping tea or leisurely sucking on bright yellow pastilles. Despite the softly whirring silver instruments and flashing blue crystal balls, the room somehow felt empty without him.

Snape scowled, displeased. He had hoped to shove the greenhaired nuisance into Albus' hands and be done with Zoro, but the Headmaster's absence obviously dismissed this possibility. He would have to show Zoro the way to Gryffindor Tower himself, much to his disgust.

The short trip felt endlessly confusing to Zoro; the identical walls, chattering portraits and annoyingly moving staircases all seemed determined to get him hopelessly lost. _Ha! Take that!_ Zoro jeered at them silently, carefully keeping the long black billowing cloak in sight. _I have outwitted you!_

Snape stopped abruptly in front of a portrait of a fat woman garbed in a lacy, frilly pink dress. Her black curly hair was styled artistically under a light gauzy white veil. Zoro wondered what they were doing here: he thought he would be allowed to sleep. His professor grimaced and muttered, "Caput Draconis." The injunction to "remember that if your tiny green brain possibly can" was punctuated by the patented #9 Snape glare: the you-are-so-unworthy-and-stupid-I-can't-believeI'm-wasting-my-time-on-you one. The gilded frame grumbled and swung open. Zoro heeded the Potion Master's words and securely stored the password away for future reference.

Snape propelled his student into a large circular room illuminated by a warm crackling fire. Zoro whirled around and glared at him. Snape raised an eyebrow and smirked. The boy, after a moment of glowering with all his might at the professor, turned back to regard the entirety of the common room. Comfortable plush chairs with bright red upholstery were arranged haphazardly around low dark gleaming wooden tables. Students chatted, catching up on the time spent apart. Books were piled in neat pyramids in convenient locations, bright covers dully reflecting the flames. The traditional gold and scarlet burst obtrusively into view all around the cozy study room.

A chilly hush settled over the room as soon as Snape entered. Zoro had gleaned that the cold man hated Gryffindors and figured the sentiment was mutual. The proffesor scowled disdainfully at the fearful, angry and puzzled students, reading easily the questioning on their shocked faces: why was the greasy git here? Their gazes fell on the stocky kid before him and many contained irritation, if not plain was obvious to them that he had somehow brought the wrath of the fearsome bat of the dungeon on their whole House. Zoro stared back evenly, accustomed to seeing anger in his enemies' eyes. A sneering voice broke though his reminiscing on past fights and opponents. "Since no prefects are patrolling _as they should be_," he put condescending emphasis on the last words, "I will show you your room." Zoro followed him uncomplainingly (honestly, he wasn't sure he liked the other Gryffindors or their quickness to blame others) up one flight of stairs.

Snape slammed open the door marked "First years." Zoro peered in at the large stone chamber: six four-poster beds surrounded by deep red curtains were arrayed in a loose circle. Trunks lay open at the ends of the mattresses, apparently abandoned in the middle of unpacking. Five boys flew around the room, throwing back formerly pristine white covers and diving under beds, engaged in a frantic search for something unknown: the ravenahired boy Zoro recognized as Harry Potter, a tall redhead, a shortie with blue eyes, a dark skinned brunet and another with a round pudgy face.

Snape seemed to suddenly notice the presence of a certain eleven-year-old and immediately spun on his heel, stalking away in a flurry of somber cloth, quickly rearranging his features into an emotionless mask. But Zoro had seen enough to wonder how the sight of one very small child with emerald eyes and messy black hair could evince such strong hate, longing, annoyance and slight worry in a normally highly controlled and calm man.

Zoro stepped through the threshold. "What are you looking for?" he asked flatly, abruptly. "Who're you?" the redhead shot back after jumping, startled. Apparently he hadn't even noticed Zoro was there. The swordsman concluded that he would not pose much of a challenge as an adversary in a duel. "Why are you wearing Slytherin colors? You a slimy snake too?" he demanded suspiciously, gesturing at the marimo's short green hair. A Slytherin hater, in that case, who also happened to leap to conclusions too much, with a rude, big mouth, he therefore probably attracts quite a few fights and enemies.

The swordsman shrugged, tempted to sigh at the kid's prejudices, and looked for someone more reasonable. "We're looking for Neville's toad, Trevor. Neville lost him again," Harry replied softly, glancing at who Zoro assumed was Neville. Zoro glanced Harry over once, taking in the shy stance, confused, overwhelmed and awed expression, and the honesty, innocence and compassion warring against slight distrust in the boy's wide sparkling jewel-like eyes. He finally decided he liked this boy, at least more than that redhaired kid. Besides, Snape's reaction to him was odd and mysteries were always interesting.

Zoro shifted his gaze to the plump, unsure brownhaired boy. Neville looked terrified, while the last two boys seemed very comfortable with one another. Zoro mused that they had maybe known each other before now. At least they seemed rather intent on finding the missing pet; however, their loud conversations and clunking against wooden mattress supports was getting rather annoying. The pirate fervently wished the stupid creature would just stop hiding and suddenly appear before him or something so that he could finally get some peace. To his shock and surprise, a minuscule warty slimy muddy brown amphibian came zooming towards. "Trevor!" Neville shouted in relief and delight. Harry reached out a hand and caught it, almost dropping the toad because of its slippery skin. Good reflexes and eye-hand coordination, Zoro noted approvingly, adding that to the list of reasons why he definitely preferred Harry to most Gryffindors. The young boy handed the beast to Neville, who grinned, "Thank you!" He turned admiration-filled eyes on the swordsman who shrugged uncomfortably. He wasn't used to people thanking him (or approaching him at all for that matter) and it did not help that he had no idea how he had performed that trick.

The redhead stared at him suspiciously but backed off, seemingly giving him the benefit of doubt. Harry smiled timidly at him as his dorm mates all crawled into bed, snuggly wrapping the blankets around themselves. Zoro set his heavy trunk at the foot of the last unoccupied bed. He felt a pang of longing as he remembered the beloved Thousand Sunny and the close-knit crew. Back home, darkness would be falling as he washed the dinner dishes in the galley, Sanji planning out the next meal near him. When they had finished, they would retire to the dimly lit men's quarters after Sanji's "just one last" cigarette. Usopp would terrify himself and Chopper with horror stories, and the young doctor would then snuggle up to him. Brook would make some corny skull jokes, Luffy would laugh, his inimitably huge, idiotic grin pasted across his forever-cheerful face. Franky would share perverted images with the skeleton and of course he and Sanji would swap insults, escalating until a fight would almost break out, at which point Luffy would intervene with his oblivious perfect timing and an out-of-place "three swords." They would finally all shut up and fall asleep. He was not very familiar with this weird tightening in his chest as he thought of his crewmates. Was this what people meant by "missing someone"? It certainly didn't feel the same as when a person was dead, like Kuina. But now, he just wanted to see them again, fight with or against them, laugh, arguer, eat, train… He even missed the shitty love cook, as incredible as that may seem. He rolled over, trying to get comfortable, unused to the soft, pliant comfort of the feather mattress. His hardened back was far more accustomed to the harsh rope of his usual hammock. _Clear the mind,_ he whispered to himself. Slowly, ever so slowly, the black relief crept ober him and he dreamed of another time, another world, a place where he belonged.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **Okay, seriously, who do you think I am? I'm a student living with my parents and at the moment not earning a single cent. Now, look over there. See that person? _That's _JK Rowling. See? Not me. I don't own Harry Potter. Unfortunately. Oh wait, I forgot: that amazing dude over there, that's the one and only Oda-sensei. And he has Zoro. *Sniffle* Life hates me.

A/N: Wow, another chapter up already! You must all be amazed, right? Of course, I've had this one planned out for quite a bit, so it was a lot quicker. I love you Chadanaiy, not least because of the tremendous help and advice you have given me on this fanfic and Zoro's personality. And so, my lovely readers, please don't be too lazy and drop a comment! And to those who already have, well, I must admit I love you forever to little bits. You guys are amazing and great and totally make my day! Now, let us not break tradition, and so I say: Onwards!

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><p>Outside, the crescent moon was slowly falling into the hands of the dark horizon. The stars faded before the weak brilliance of the newborn sun. Dawn painted the sky in pink and purple, dancing across the early sky. It was to this spectacle that Zoro awoke, the first cold rays seeping through the curtains drawn around his bed. His well-trained instincts had him immediately awake, senses on the highest alert. Even so, it took him a moment to place the large stone room in his mind. The bright lion hangings finally clued him in as he stared around at the five other beds. The lion stared down at the eleven-year-old disdainfully and roared a challenge. Zoro snorted and threw the constricting blankets off. He was tempted to slice the tapestry in half for its disrespect but finally decided against it. Quickly dressing, he grabbed his swords and strapped them on. He considered the long black regulation cloak, wondering if he could wear his haramaki under it. The answer was probably yes, so he dropped it, leaving it for later. Months sharing a small ship with easily woken nakama had trained him well to train silently. Throwing his trunk open, he rummaged around for his weights, throwing into disarray all of his formerly neatly packed possessions. It was odd not to have his own clothes, but as long as he retained his swords he did not care. The weights were summarily strapped on with a whispered "50kg." The exercises were so routine that his body went through them while his mind blanked out and rested. He performed them once again with 100kg and finally placed them back in his trunk. A gaze weighed heavily on his back and turned to encounter Harry's emerald eyes. He grunted a good morning and drew his swords, whirling through an intricate sword dance that ended with a completely accidental slice of the stupid pompous lion. He paused and frowned. He didn't normally make such clumsy mistakes. His roommate shrank back, eyes wide in a mixture of fear and awe. Zoro smiled slightly, reminded somehow of Luffy.<p>

The others one by one awoke during his short shower. He glanced at them, gauging their level of awareness. No, definitely not good adversaries. Donning the cloak, he sat on his bed and polished his swords as his dorm mates readied themselves for the day.

Breakfast was easy to find: he followed his nose and the sleepy masses of children running to the Great Hall. The sky was clear but gray, laden down with the promise of rain. The schedules were distributed, and he finished eating quickly.

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><p>Zoro was lost again. No, this really wasn't funny at all, thank you very much. Apparently that giggling crowd that was following him through the portraits in the wall didn't understand the meaning of those glares he was sending them. He turned the corner, and one witch pointed at him, whispered something before they all collapsed in laughter. He'd been at this for more than twenty minutes.<p>

Zoro knew that his sense of direction was slightly lacking (Read: absolutely nonexistent). He had therefore left the Great Hall, twenty minutes before classes, so he would arrive in Transfiguration in plenty of time. It seemed the plan was about to backfire.

What? The staircase just moved! He stared at the marble steps, feeling somehow betrayed. Growling, he decided that he would just go to the top and turn right, regardless of the fact that the stairs had moved to the floor below its earlier destination. It couldn't change that much, could it?

Thirty minutes into this fruitless quest and he was still lost. The corridors, the staircases, and, he was sure, the classrooms all moved on him for no good reason. He turned around and ran away.

Forty minutes since he'd left the Great Hall: still no luck. He had tried hacking at the walls, too, but the stupid things were magically indestructible or something. Probably the or something. Anyway, back to the point: this was starting to really get on his nerves.

Finally, some dark-haired man with a fearsome mustache and glinting eyes took pity on him and said, "Turn right, then left, it's the third door on your left." Zoro glowered at him mistrustfully, not wanting to be duped by one of those giggling portraits (he'd fallen into a few of their traps before deciding to ignore them). Well, it worked or it didn't, he consoled his hurt pride and sense of direction. He followed the directions and arrived in front of a conspicuous large door in the wall from which emerged the quiet sounds of low murmurs. The door, as it happened, was labeled with a large sign: "Transfiguration."

He opened the door with trepidation. "So nice of you to join us, Mr. Roronoa," the stern woman with the fraying bun snapped. "Five points from Gryffindor." Zoro slid silently into a chair at the back of the class, unbothered by the glares from his housemates, the bushy-haired girl's especially.

The professor handed him a match and explained brusquely how to turn it into a needle, lips pressed together primly and disapprovingly. "Next time, ask someone to lead you to the room," she added, frowning down at him.

He scowled at his match. Somehow, all this mess was the match's fault, he knew it. Getting out his wand, he moved it in the motion Professor McGonagall had described and chanted the words, feeling useless. Nothing happened. He repeated the spell again and again mechanically, allowing his mind to wander. What else could be made of metal, he wondered. A katana, perhaps? Long, elegant blade, bright silvery sheen, sheer overwhelming strength, characteristic rough rope hilt, braided into uneven diamonds, heavy, threatening, beautiful... A pop jarred him from his musings. Before him lay the exact katana he had dreamt up. The Transfiguration professor scurried over to him. "Did I not say a needle, Mr. Roronoa? Five points from Gryffindor for not following the assignment." Her lips curled into a smile. "And twenty points to Gryffindor for a high-level transfiguration."

Zoro watched her go, trying to wrap his mind around whatever the heck had happened. She seemed mad but annoyed at the same time, and this place was bizarre and confusing. He finally decided to ignore the whole world and it whole annoying quandary and dozed off.

A screech of "Mr. Roronoa!" woke him. He jumped, irritated at being disturbed, and glared up into the coolly irate face of his Transfiguration professor. "Just what do you think you are doing?" she shrieked, eyes positively glittering with fury. "Uhh... Sleeping?" He rubbed his head, wondering who these people were if they didn't know what sleeping was. He thought he'd seen Harry and the other boys do that, but now he wasn't so sure. "That much is obvious!" she hissed. Oh. So they did sleep. Then why did she ask the question in the first place? Was it a, he paused, trying to remember the word, rhetorical question? "Transfiguration is for learning how to do magic, not sleeping!" Huh. So she didn't like him sleeping when she was talking and there was nothing else to do. Weird. No one else had ever complained about him napping except during huge windstorms and battles and stuff like that, and of course that fell under the category of "things to do" (not that he cared, really.) Well, of course Sanji did, but then again, the shit cook didn't like him doing anything, including, it seemed sometimes, existing. Maybe he was jealous of Zoro's strength. Yup, that must be it. Oh, wait, he got off track. Time to return to this bizarre world. Professor McGonagall glared down at him furiously, mentally adding every basic school rule to the list of things she wanted to talk to Zoro about. She finally decided to walk away to exclaim over Miss Granger's exemplary transfiguration.

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><p>He didn't fare much better in the other classes, either. After Transfiguration ended, his Head of House had assigned that silly grade-obsessed bushy haired girl. The witch was called Hermione or something like that, right? Herbology was just plain uninteresting and he really didn't understand why he was supposed to take care of these plants. Weren't they going to cut them up later anyway? Oh, sure, it was cool that some of them had magical properties, but not many of them differed from what Chopper used them for. Besides, he'd had enough of the "plant or grass hair" jokes. History of Magic was horrible, but at least he could just sleep while the boring ghost lectured. Hermione glared at him and muttered, but that was a necessary sacrifice. Besides, it was all about something called "Goblin Wars" and they all had wretchedly unoriginal names. Charms intrigued him, but he couldn't seem to master the wand movements, and the teacher would squeak angrily whenever his swipes with the stick happened to create powerful air cuts that broke the wall. Defense Against the Dark Arts was taught by some stuttering turbaned fool, who had truly no idea what real fighting was. A disgusting stench emanated from the disgusting purple thing that suspiciously covered his head, and sometimes he wished he could cut the fool down and give him a good reason to stutter in fear. At least everyone seemed totally ignorant on most subjects, so he didn't feel too dumb. However, he wasn't good at essays (it had been five years since he'd last gone to something resembling school) and hated homework, though practical exercises weren't so bad. Astronomy was nice since he was allowed to stare at the stars as much as he liked, but he couldn't make heads or tails of the charts he was supposed to fill out. He growled upon realizing that Nami could read the stars so much better than he could, and swore that he would beat her (someday).<p>

Potions was a double period on Friday mornings. Friday afternoons were free, and he looked forward to being able to perform sword work in peace. He was decidedly more curious about this class than the others, seeing as Professor Snape happened to teach this particular subject. While every single Gryffindor who had been taught by him detested the "greasy git", as he'd heard Snape called, Snape was quite the complex guy. And he enjoyed puzzles (no matter what Sanji had to say about his intellect and puzzle-solving skills.)

He trailed behind Hermione in the cold unwelcoming dungeons. He noted carelessly the pickled animals floating in glass jars all over the walls. And, oh, bizarre, Snape really hated Harry—or at least seemed to. His silky voiced dripped the word _celebrity_ like it was something disgusting or poisonous. His gaze flickered to Zoro as he called his name, but the glance was so brief that no other noticed it.

Very charismatic, very impressive, Zoro decided as the slight whisper filled the room, drawing in curious intellects like so many flies. No one dared interrupt or speak out of turn. A very strong personality—for better or for worse.

"Potter!" Snape barked suddenly, and proceeded to demand answers to obscure questions. Everyone looked stumped, except, of course, the Girl-Who-Knew-Everything. Another question, an unfair accusation—though Zoro deduced from Harry's pained expression that it wastrue, but perhaps for a different reason—and then Harry made the fatal mistake: he talked back.

Zoro had not known Snape for very long, but those brief hours had taught him that he abhorred disrespect. Snape snapped at them, took a point from Gryffindor, paired them up and set them to work on a potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing everyone except an aristocratic stuck-up blond kid and, bizarrely, Zoro himself. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when the swordsman glanced at the potion he was working on with Neville. It was boiling, slight green steam filling the room. Zoro frowned: he didn't really think it was supposed to do that. He intuitively grabbed a handful of red sand and threw it in. The low hissing immediately stopped and the potion changed color. Well, to be exact, it became clear. Perfectly, exactly clear, and the air around it tasted like that lemon pastille Albus had fed him. Snape halted before their cauldron and stared into it. Raising one eyebrow, he asked, "How did you get this potion?" Zoro shrugged. Neville looked utterly terrified. "It's some kind of Truth potion, isn't it?" he asked, pouring it into a vial. Snape scowled. "You have just brewed Veritaserum. How that happened when you were supposed to brew Boil Cure is a mystery, but I suppose your tiny brain has something to do with it. Five points from Gryffindor for not heeding instructions." Unlike McGonagall, he did not award him points for making something difficult instead.

The bell rang and class filed out, Slytherins for the most part grinning triumphantly, while Gryffindors were angry and sullen. Many of them shot annoyed glares at Zoro for the huge loss of points. The glares intensified when they realized he didn't seem to care in the least. They were right. However, they did help him decide two things: he did not especially like Gryffindors (Harry, Neville and to a certain extent Hermione excluded) and especially not Ron, who had sidled up to Harry and started ranting on the injustice of the greasy git. Zoro ignored him and set off into the sunshine, intent on getting some long-awaited and definitely well-earned practice in.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Do not own. Wish I did. Wish I were making money off of this, too. But alas, I am not.

A/N: Again, as always, I apologize for the late release. I've actually had this one ready for a bit, but I've been busy, what with my surgery, hospitalisation, not getting good access to a speedy computer... Anyway, all my apologies, and thank you, good reader, for taking the time to read this. Reviews make my day, as always. And I love you all for your awesomeness. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy (even though I don't particularly like this chapter that much.) Also, check out my other stories!

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><p>Zoro had finally discovered a person who rivaled Sanji in stupidity and ignorance: his name was Draco Malfoy. Incidentally, they were both blond. But that was beside the point.<p>

That afternoon, he discovered that Flying was a compulsory class, too. From Seamus and Ron's excited blabbering, he gleaned that they were training for an international sport named Quidditch—played on, get this, _broomsticks_. All the boys who obviously knew about magic from an early age spoke of it with awe and joy and passion. Girls, for the most part, did not. Hermione in particular was nervous and worried, so finally he interrupted her lecture on tips she had gathered from _Quidditch through the Ages_ with a growl and a reassuring glare (well, he hoped it was reassuring, but given her frightened squeak, it might not have been.) Neville was most anxious of all, with good reason, seeing how clumsy he already was on the ground.

Whatever that silly glowing red orb was (Remembrall or something like that?), Neville seemed very excited about it, though honestly Zoro could not see the point of knowing you've forgotten about something when you don't know _what_ you've forgotten. He figured perhaps inferior people's brains were programmed differently. Just then, Draco Malfoy walked by the long Gryffindor table with his two hulking cronies and grabbed it straight out of Neville's hands. Zoro rolled his eyes at the provocation and snatched it back, handing it to a relieved Neville. Professor McGonagall gave them a knowing glare and Malfoy scurried on his way.

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><p>At three-thirty that afternoon, Zoro, Hermione and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns towards a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance. The swordsman stretched carelessly, used to the cool wind from long hours of pushups and sword dances and tree cutting.<p>

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair and yellow eyes like a hawk. She barked at them to stand next to the broom of their choice. Zoro scanned them, looking for the cleanest one, but they all seemed old and had twigs sticking out at odd angles. "Stick out your hand over your broom and say 'Up!'"

"UP!" everyone shouted. The rough handle leapt obediently into his hand. Zoro noticed that very few now clutched their broom. Harry, he noted with slight pride, had succeeded. Hermione and Neville had not, but he assumed that brooms could sense when their owner most definitely wanted to stay on the ground.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to properly mount their brooms, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. She told Zoro disapprovingly that he was not supposed to hold it like a sword. Once everyone was ready, she counted to three, and was about to whistle when Neville suddenly kicked off, shooting high, too high, too quickly, and the klutz had slipped off and crashed to the ground. Zoro felt a slight pang of worry for the pudgy boy, knowing that he was much more delicate than Luffy and the rest of his crewmates. Hooch pronounced him as merely having a broken wrist and dragged him off to the Hospital Wing.

And then, a whole episode with Malfoy being a worse jerk than Sanji—at least Sanji had morals and didn't steal for simple pleasure—and Harry being a hero who wouldn't rest until he had righted the wrong. Zoro rolled his eyes at the audacious dive and the worried gasps it elicited, and was slightly surprised when he managed to catch the Remembrall just before it broke into dust. _Better eye-hand coordination than I gave him credit for,_ he thought critically. Just then, Professor McGonagall made her presence known and frightened all the students with her stern and disappointed visage. Zoro snorted. If Harry got into trouble, he would be most shocked: unlike what the others may think, her demeanor was much more proud and pleased than annoyed.

Sure enough, Harry whispered to Ron at dinner that he had been made Seeker. Zoro didn't have good hearing for nothing, and was therefore able to hear the words. Ron was amazed (no duh—the guy sucked at reading body language and emotions,) and Malfoy showed up to be his normal annoying blond self and challenged them to a duel. Harry accepted, with Ron quickly volunteering as his second, and when Malfoy didn't disappear, Zoro growled menacingly at him. Malfoy squealed and ran away, his minions trailing stupidly after him.

This duel concept sounded interesting—like fighting, except with wands and spells. He shamelessly eavesdropped on their conversation, Ron dropping in his esteem with every word the redhead spoke. Why the hell had he accepted when he had no idea how to perform any useful spells? Malfoy obviously knew several painful curses from his confident aura, and Harry knew nothing! Zoro felt like hitting his head on something, preferably something very hard, but decided that he would probably of more use protecting them if he didn't have a pounding headache.

"Half past eleven," Ron muttered at last, "we'd better go." Zoro stalked them silently (honestly, they were so unaware and careless!), picking out Hermione's silhouette crouching in the darkness of the empty Common Room. She advised them against the futile endeavor, but the dunderheads (he found Snape's insult rather creative) wouldn't listen. She continued remonstrating with them through the portrait hole, but was unable to convince them of the utter stupidity of the fight. Finally resigning her House t o the loss of points, she turned around only to find the portrait back in place and the Fat Lady nowhere to be seen. Hermione looked close to hysterics at being locked out, and therefore against the rules, but finally chose to follow them. They encountered Neville sleeping outside the portrait hole, having forgotten the password, and he too joined the group on their trip to the Trophy Room.

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><p>So Malfoy was a treacherous lying git, Zoro reflected as they fled from Filch and his damned cat. The blond had never shown up to the duel. Another obstacle redirected their trajectory, and now they were running from Filch, Mrs. Norris, <em>and <em>Peeves. Again, he cursed Ron's stupidity (at least, with Luffy, obliviousness was an integral part of his personality!) as Hermione saved them all with a handy spell. He should learn that one. Unlocking doors was often important. A slobbering dog head greeted them. Zoro cheered at finding an interesting opponent as his fist collided with the three-headed dog's head. The four children's expressions of disbelief were hilarious. "Zoro? Since when have you been here?" Harry asked curiously, fear of the giant monster momentarily forgotten. Zoro snorted. "I've been following you since you left our room." He knocked back another probing mouth with a punch and told them, "Shouldn't we be leaving now?" Shaken out of their stupor, they hurried back to the dormitory. Zoro laughed outright at their panting, red faces, not even winded by the long escape. Hermione smartly commented about the dog protecting something and standing over a trapdoor, huffily escaping to her bed, and then they all retired to their room. All in all, a fulfilling day.

The next day was boring, except for Harry getting a new broom, which he was very discreet about—_**not**_. In fact, the next whole month were dreadfully boring, and this place didn't even have Marines to occupy the day! At least, he had honed his sword skills to even higher levels, but with no enemy to practice on, it was a moot point. His grades hadn't improved much, but with Hermione constantly hounding him to do his homework and checking over his essays, he'd scraped a few Exceeds Expectations. Potions were most fascinating, what with Snape treating him like a lab rat or a particularly bizarre experiment and the production of random high level potions. He had managed so far to brew a Fire Repellent Lotion, a Euphoria Draught and a highly potent poison. All with Neville Longbottom as his partner. Needless to say, he had lost his House quite a few points.

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><p>Zoro wondered what all this fuss was over Halloween as he walked down to breakfast with Hermione. They ate quickly, and then, off to Charms. Today, the subject was the Levitating Charm: Wingardium Leviosa. Not many people had much success, Zoro included. Finally, annoyed, he glared with all his might at the stupid innocent white feather, mocking him with all its little soft tufts. The feather trembled and flew off into the air, in the direct opposite direction from Zoro. He fancied that it looked scared of him. A feral grin spread over his face. Flitwick stared at him, openmouthed, but said nothing. Instead, he rewarded Hermione's perfect spell with several points.<p>

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><p>Ron was a jealous idiot, Zoro had decided. Just because Hermione was much more talented at spellwork than him, he had insulted her, and now she had run off to who knows where and he was stranded without a guide! He wondered whether hitting Ron would make him feel better, but Harry would probably be unhappy; so he was stuck following Harry.<p>

The feast, at least, was delicious, but Hermione's absence perturbed him. He had a very bad feeling lodged in the pit of his stomach, too, so the food felt uncommonly heavy. And really, pumpkins were _not_ his thing.

As soon as the doors slammed open, he knew this was what he had been feeling. Total chaos erupted, but he noticed Snape send a suspicious sneer at Quirrel and run off, obviously intent on something other than the troll. Ron and Harry lined up with the rest of the Gryffindors, but at the last moment seemed to remember Hermione and ran off to find her. Zoro followed Ron and Harry uninterestedly. To be honest, he was much more interested in getting acquainted with this troll thing. Whatever it was, it must be rather strong to elicit such a strong reaction from the ensemble of Hogwarts.

"Can you smell something?" Ron asked fearfully, holding up a hand. Zoro rolled his eyes. Of course. The stink of rot and mold and sweat mixed to create a pungently disgusting stench. And to go along with such a pleasant smell, there was also a low sound of grunting and heavy footsteps. Zoro's mouth turned upwards into a smile his enemies had long ago learned to fear.

The huge scaly creature was of a dull, gray color. The head was disproportionately tiny compared to its lumpy body. The poor troll had no hair. It was almost as ugly as Sanji, Zoro reflected. And as dumb, most likely.

It took him barely a moment to notice the blocky oak club the beast was toting. It looked like it could be cleaved in two by one sword stroke. The lumbering thing peered inside some door that smelled of sewers. Zoro was still analyzing the creature, noting the lack of intelligent spark in his eye, the thick skin, the powerful muscles and great size. The swordsman finally evaluated him as being worthy of two swords, no more.

The two boys, Gryffindors to the heart, dashed forward and sealed the troll in the room it had been inspecting. Zoro frowned at them and had already moved forward to open the door when a high pitched shriek arrested his attention. He knew that voice at once: Hermione was in there. He kicked the door open without a second thought, sliding the obsidian green bandana off his arm and tying it on his head in one easy movement. The lumbering creature had its back to him and was advancing on a cowering bushy haired girl. Zoro growled. Just another reason to beat the troll up. "I'll distract it, get Hermione out." Harry's eyes widened. "It could kill you!" he whispered, worried. Zoro rolled his eyes. "Do you really think so?" Harry suddenly remembered just how strong his green haired friend was and shook his head. Zoro grinned and slowly unsheathed two of his katanas. "Go!" he shouted, and the two boys sprinted to Hermione and dragged her out of the toilet stall while he attacked the troll. Normally he believed that attacking from behind was cowardly, but since a child and friend were in danger, he would conveniently forget about that moral rule.

The two swords ripped through the creature's scaly flesh, spattering blood all over the floor. The troll let out a horrendous cry and toppled over, landing with an almighty crash on the bathroom floor. Zoro raised an eyebrow. That had been easier than expected. Apparently trolls were not as strong as they looked.

Harry and Ron aided an unsteady Hermione out of the stall. She collapsed on the floor next to the three boys, shivering. Hiccupping, she said, "Thank you. I was-so scared-" She burst out crying, letting out all the pent-up tension and fear out. Ron hugged her awkwardly as the tears streamed out.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three boys look up. Hermione still had her face buried in Ron's robes. They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making, but of course someone would have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall came bustling into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrel bringing up the rear. Quirrel took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.

Snape bent over the troll. Two long, intercrossed, straight thick cuts were pouring viscous troll blood. He looked around and noticed Zoro. That explained how the troll had received such injuries. The boy's swords, dripping with viscous red liquid were still visible.

Professor McGonagall was looking at the group. They had never seen her so angry. Her lips had turned white, Zoro noted with amusement. Immediately, the woman rounded on him. "Anything funny you would like to share, Mr Roronoa?" she barked furiously. Zoro shrugged. She turned back to the rest of them. "What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall. "You're lucky you weren't killed."

Snape himself interrupted at that, giving both Harry and Zoro a long, piercing look. "I do not believe it was luck that saved all of them. Rather, it was most probably Mr Roronoa's uncanny skill with blades." The woman rounded on him. "What do you mean?" she demanded with an icy glare. Snape gestured at the gruesomely neat injuries on the humongous creature's chest. "Mr Roronoa?" Professor McGonagall breathed. "You... did this?" Zoro shrugged. "Hermione didn't know about the troll, Ron and Harry were worried about her, and I was just bored. I haven't tested my skill for a long while. Turns out trolls aren't that strong though," he explained nonchalantly. The woman gave him a look of befuddlement and awe. It wasn't every day that you heard an eleven year old child announce that trolls were not that strong.

Snape's lips turned upwards slightly. Zoro never ceased to amaze, and it was always nice when someone managed to render the stern Deputy Headmistress speechless. The Transfigurations professor shook herself. "Well. Well. I shall talk to the Headmaster and see if we can arrange some sort of training with your swords." Zoro grinned. Maybe he could finally do something other than just weight lifting.

Professor McGonagall's expression returned to her normal stern, severe face. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for disobeying and not going directly to the dormitories. And ten more points from Gryffindor for walking straight into danger." Her lips turned upwards again. "And fifty points to Gryffindor for incredible skill with swords." After a moment, she narrowed her eyes as a thought struck her. She glanced down and saw the three swords slung at the boy's narrow waist. Three? She furrowed her eyebrows. "Five points from Gryffindor for carrying dangerous weapons without express permission." How could she not have noticed them? They were there, plain as day, and yet... Before her very own eyes the blades faded away. She tested where they had been and bizarrely could not sense any traces of magic. "Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, you are dismissed. Please go back to Gryffindor Tower. Mr Roronoa, please follow me." All nodded and the three scampered off, glancing back worriedly at the green haired youth left alone with the three professors.

"You can use all of the swords you carry?" Professor McGonagall asked. She was truly interested in his sword technique. More likely than not he only used two swords at a time, but then again, this boy was not normal... "Yes," was Zoro's extremely elaborate answer. "All at once?" the professor probed further, her interest piqued. "Yes," Zoro responded again. The professor felt vague stirrings of excitement take hold of her. "Would you demonstrate?" Zoro raised an eyebrow and shrugged. McGonagall was about to insist when she saw a large tree stump soaring towards her. She glanced back at the swordsman. He wasn't there. She frowned and turned around.

The first thing that caught her eye was the haphazard pile of six even blocks of wood. The youth stood with his back to them. White and gold glinted from the side of his mouth. A long blade of immaculate steel jutted out from his strong, boyish jaw.

The woman felt her eyes grow wide. To be honest, she wasn't the only one who was surprised. Snape was very slightly impressed that the boy had the skill to precisely manipulate a sword in his mouth. And a hidden entity within Quirrel stirred, stared and analyzed.

"Well... Well, Mr Roronoa. I believe we shall have to go see the Headmaster," she said, trying to shake off her stupefaction. Zoro shrugged and fell into step behind her. As he passed Severus, he muttered, "You come too." Snape would have refused, but some strange force grabbed hold of him and pulled him after the youth. Quirrel was left sitting on his toilet, forgotten.

The password for the gargoyles was "licorice tails." The three crowded onto the moving stairs. "Come in, Minerva, Severus, Mr Roronoa," the Headmaster bid them. His twinkling blue eyes gazed benignly at the greenhaired boy. "Mr Roronoa defeated a troll, I see?" he asked, a bushy eyebrow raised high. Minerva nodded curtly. "He claims that he is bored with his training exercises at the moment." Albus smiled at Zoro. "What have you been training for?" he asked gently. "My dream," the swordsman replied succinctly. "And that would be?" Zoro shrugged. "To become the greatest swordsman in the world."

Dumbledore smiled. "I know of just the place you can train without disturbance; on the seventh floor opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy there is an invisible room named the Room of Requirement; pace in front of it three times while picturing your ideal training room and a door shall appear to lead you there. Severus, I assume you know where it is?" Snape gave a scowl of assentive distaste. Zoro grinned at them. "Thanks." The two were dismissed shortly after and made their way to the area indicated, the expedition, of course, led by Snape, since by now everyone knew of his infamously lacking sense of direction.

When he finally appeared at breakfast covered in bruises and scratches but with a feral grin animating his face, three people at the Head Table were not surprised. Not surprised at all.

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><p>Well, I hoped you liked it (more than I did, at any rate). Thanks!<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I don't own. Sad me. I've been thinking that maybe I can have Zoro threaten JKR into giving me Snape, but unfortunately I don't own him either. What a cruel, cruel world.

A/N: Finally, finally a new chapter is up! I'm really sorry it's been so long, and have absolutely no excuse, but oh well. Feel free to his me with rolled up newspapers or whatever hits your fancy. On another note, I have quite a few unfinished, unpublished fanfics stored up on my iPod (time travel HP fic, Sherlock oneshots, weird AUs, Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn and One Piece crossover.) Please tell me if you're interested in any of these so I can maybe upload them (if I'm not too lazy). On another note, I hate school. But that, dear readers, is completely unrelated. So, friends, traditions must never change, and thus I say, Onwards!

Edit: I'm very, very, very sorry! The first time I uploaded this, I wrote that it was a crossover between _Harry Potter_ and Fire Emblem. It's not. It's actually a crossover between _One Piece_ and Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn.

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><p>Snape was thinking. Not an unusual pastime for the man, but the subject of his reflection would have, until he met him, seemed very odd. After all, what could be so interesting about an eleven-year-old oblivious potions prodigy with green hair, who could wield three swords, including one in his mouth? After a few moments of deep pensiveness, he realized that his question was absurd. <em>Everything<em> would be interesting about such a person. And that was why Hogwart's most beloved (even in his mind, Snape's voice could ooze sarcasm) Potions Master was intrigued.

Snape glared down at the mass of students eating breakfast, chatting and chewing noisily. He hated children. Especially children who just _had_ to have the exact replica of their mother's eyes and get into trouble at every turn. And children who had green hair, he added as an afterthought, seeing Zoro lope up to Potter and sit beside the boy. He noted that the green-haired boy had acquired several bruises and scratches, and wondered what Zoro could possibly have convinced the Room of Requirement to create that could thus harm him.

Over the next few weeks, Snape noticed that the boy received new injuries every second night (as he appeared with them every second morning). Every day, his curiosity grew until he could bear it no longer. He resolved to follow Zoro that Friday.

The professor and his student both ended with a double period of potions with the Gryffindors and Slytherins (in which Zoro succeeded in creating a passable cauldronful of Amortentia; the assignment was Calming Draught). Snape kept a hidden eye on the swordsman as he packed up his potion-making material and slid silently out of the classroom (again, Snape wondered how his housemates could possibly not notice how different Zoro was from them; among his Slytherins, even Draco had remarked upon it, and Draco was not known for his extreme sharpness). The Potions Master graded papers for an ensuing appropriate amount of time before slipping after his target.

Zoro had apparently found a portrait willing to lead him to Barnabas the Barmy. Snape winced at Sir Caddogan's challenges and restrained his impulse to hex the knight silent. At one point, Zoro stopped abruptly, as if he had heard something, but then shook his head and resumed his journey.

Upon arrival in front of the tapestry, Zoro paced three times, brows furrowed, before wrenching open the door that appeared. He let it fall closed slowly, leaving Snape the time to glide through the doorway and wonder whether Zoro he was being followed.

The question flew from his mind the moment he looked around. What seemed to be an army of baboons was advancing on the small boy. The clear leader had an enormous, cross-shaped sword slung across his back. Zoro wasted no time in unsheathing his weapons and beginning his assault.

What followed was… well, I shall not bore you with the details, but Snape was so mesmerized by the whirling blades and clean slices that he did not even hear a straggler creep up behind him. He automatically reached for his wand, but halted the movement as a spray of blood threatened to stain his robes. He leapt back, unsurprised to see Zoro atop the carcass that slowly faded into nothingness. "You should watch out, _sir_," he muttered, tone just as unsurprised to see his professor there. The "sir" was bitten out with as much sarcasm and are-you-really-that-stupid-yes-I-guess-you-are frustration as the pirate could muster. With a wave of his hand, the baboons all disappeared, to be replaced with massive boulders. Zoro easily picked them up and balanced them on his forearms. "I'd hoped you'd go away, but what the hell did you think you were doing, zoning out during a battle?" Snape was too shocked at the admonishment to even remember to dock points for his attitude.

"Never mind," Zoro muttered, rolling his eyes and striding over to the window. He unlatched it and pulled it up, sticking an open hand out. He pulled his arm back in with an owl perching upon it, blinking speedily at him. Snape idly wondered if owls could be hyper or have sugar rushes. If such a thing were possible, the owl would definitely be on one. He vaguely remembered purchasing the one-winged owl, of course, but it had not seemed to have as much energy back then.

"Here, Kaizokuo,' Zoro murmured softly, setting his bird down next to a dead mouse. Snape decided he really did not want to know where the boy had obtained such a thing. Kaizokuo gobbled it up and squinted owlishly at the green hair in a plea for more. Zoro obliged. "What are you still doing here?" he demanded roughly, still facing his owl. This time, Snape remembered to dock points before leaving.

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><p>Today was Harry's first Quidditch match. Ron had been repeatedly complaining about Snape's unfair confiscation of Harry's library book ("If he was complaining about unfairness, why didn't he complain about how teachers blatantly favored Gryffindor over Slytherin with the exception of Snape?" Zoro wondered aloud, but Ron appeared to have suddenly gone deaf. Harry, however, had heard, and seemed to be thinking it over) and loudly whispering about how Snape must be trying to steal whatever was hidden beneath the trapdoor, since he had been injured by the three-headed dog. Aha, Zoro thought triumphantly, So that's what he was doing on Halloween. Still, if he were trying to steal it, he wouldn't be so carefree about telling someone else about his misadventures with the dog. The headmaster would banish him if that were truly the case. So, he most likely is protecting it. But against whom? The question whirled through his mind throughout the Quidditch map.<p>

Screams and fingers pointing at a jerking broom high in the sky interrupted him. He looked up, only to curse at Harry's predicament. His sharp eyes scanned the stands. High-level magic, he assumed, so most likely a teacher. Two of them were muttering, eyes fixed on Harry's slight form hanging only by a wrist: Quirrel and Snape. He quickly evaluated who the most likely culprit was. Snape was speaking frantically, and while he hated Harry, also loved him, so Quirrel was most likely. Quirrel, true, did not have any reason to kill Harry, but hidden agendas were always the worst.

Hermione stood up and ran towards the teacher's stands. He called for to wait, but she was already too far. The sinking feeling in his chest, he knew, spelled death for Harry as the witch lit a fire beneath Snape's robes. He could hardly believe it when Snape knocked Quirrel over. He sighed in relief as Harry regained his broom and zoomed off, finally swallowing the Snitch and winning the game fore his House.

There was quite a bit of useful information to be learned through eavesdropping, Zoro reflected as he slowly walked back to the castle. "Fluffy,' he murmured, the sound too low for normal humans to hear, and smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **I do not own. I have never owned. I probably never will own. That doesn't stop me from wishing, though.

A/N: I will start this off with an apology that I have repeated far too often: Forgive me for the horrid lateness of this chapter. It's been what, five months? A new year? D***, I'm really terrible at writing and publishing. Please forgive me for my horrible neglect of this story, especially those of you who took the time and had the kindness to review my story. Thank you, all of you. I couldn't possibly convey to you how much it means to me that you are enjoying my story.

On another note, what kind of review is this? "I tried up to this point to enjoy your story. I could'nt. I/m signing off." This was in response to my second chapter. First off, I would like to congratulate you on having the balls to post this anonymously. Second of all, seriously, at least you could tell me what I've done wrong and why it's so horrible. Last of all, what is with the weird punctuation mistake.

Anyway. Enough on the topic of stupid, unencouraging, and unhelpful reviews. I have some answers to sme very pertinent questions some of you have asked:

**Will the other Strawhats appear? **No, not for the moment, and probably not until at least second year, if I can make it that long with my procrastinating habits. Although second year would probably appear as a sequel. As you may have noticed from my other stories (if you've read them) I am a Sanji/Zoro fan, so if the other Strawhats appear, he'll probably be the first to arrive, and Luffy the last, just because if he comes, I have a few secrets to reveal. I really can't answer that question very precisely because I'm just as clueless as you about what will happen as the story progresses.

**When in the Strawhats' voyage did Zoro somehow find himself at Hogwarts? **I guess after Thriller Bark, but that really does not explain the baboons. Um... Well... Shall we say... I really don't know. Sometime after the timeskip, just after the fishman island arc but before Punk Hazard, since that is initially, when I started this fic. And at the time I had no idea that Zoro even knew what haki was, so, well... Yeah. Sorry!

**Maybe you could even cure Zoro of his lack of sense in direction? **Would Zoro even be the same without it? *tries to picture it* Nope, not working.

**Why does Zoro have such powerful magic?** Because I said so. And because Zoro is somehow always cluelessly strong. And because I am the author. So there.

**Who set up that bank account for him? **Now that, my friends, would be telling.

And now, as the French would say, _pour ne pas rompre avec la tradition _(at least, that's how my English-ripped French would say it, and Google translate more or less agrees with me), I tell you, my faithful readers, Onwards!

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><p>Christmas was coming. Another event coming up to remind him that time was passing, and that he still had absolutely no idea how to get back home. Luffy. Chopper. Usopp. Robin. Nami. Brook. Franky. The shit cook. What were they doing now? Was it Christmas over there, too? Had they put up a tree yet? Christmas was always a good excuse in Luffy's mind to have an enormous feast, and he remembered the easy laughter, cheerful atmosphere and crazy antics with a strange bitter feeling of regret. The snow that coated the ground only served to further remind him of what he missed, and he threw himself into a strenuous training routine to forget his solitude.<p>

Snape still watched him, onyx eyes boring into him, but at least he hadn't gotten the idiotic idea of following him to the Room of Requirement into his head again. Small mercies. Harry and Ron were both staying at school, so he supposed that at least he would have some company in the Gryffindor dormitories. Hermione was leaving, however, fiercely admonishing them to continue researching Nicolas Flamel in her absence. Seriously. Did they have no idea what discretion and hushed tones were? And if magic could do anything, surely there were spells to prevent against eavesdroppers, right?

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><p>"I do feel so sorry," said Draco Malfoy, one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts because they're not wanted at home."<p>

Of course the insult was directed at Harry. Malfoy's simmering jealousy was plain for everyone to see. For the umpteeth time, Zoro wondered how Malfoy could have been sorted into Slytherin. Cunning? None at all. Ambition? Only to prove that he was superior to everyone else. Intelligence? He wasn't even sure if the boy _possessed_ a brain, much less used it. Then again, Malfoy certainly couldn't be called brave and reckless, or loyal and hard-working, or smart and knowledgeable, so perhaps Slytherin _was_ the best choice. At least there he could hide behind Snape's robes.

Zoro wasn't too sure what he and Neville had managed to create this lesson, but he was pretty sure the assigned potion wasn't supposed to be pink. Nor was it supposed to smell like sweat and steel and sake and the galley when Sanji was cooking and his crewmates' laughter, based on the name, "Babbling Beverage". Though, now that he thought about it, he'd seen this potion before. Brewed it two weeks ago in Potions, in fact. Weird. He was pretty sure the "Babbling Beverage" and "Fatiguing Infusion" weren't supposed to look and smell alike, much less have the same list of ingredients. He scratched his head. Weird. "Umm, Zoro?" his partner began hesitantly. He glanced up sharply at Neville in an invitation to continue. "Are you sure this is what we were supposed to make?" Zoro stared at him, looked at the potion, looked at Neville again. "No." But at least they hadn't exploded the cauldron, although they had, once again, lost points for Gryffindor.

A large fir was blocking the corridor to the classroom. Ron offered to help carry it, and Zoro couldn't help a snort from escaping him. How did an eleven-year-old think that he could carry an enormous tree when even a giant was having trouble with it? Ron whirled around, face already turning red, when Malfoy also decided to chip in his two cents' worth: "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose." Zoro reached out his hand just in time to grab Ron by the collar as he dived at the smirking Slytherin. _Perfect_ timing, in fact, as Snape glided to the top of the stairs and beheld the scene. "Move," Snape order silkily. Malfoy and his cronies quickly obeyed, shoving past the evergreen in a shower of needles, sneering and laughing all the way. The professor rounded on Harry, Ron, Zoro and Hermione next. "What are you four still doing here? Did I not tell you to _move_?" The four hastened away, casting a few sympathetic glances back at Hagrid.

* * *

><p>The holidays had begun. Three weeks of relative quiet, no classes, and no Malfoy. Quite a bit of boredom, too. There wasn't much to do apart from train, sleep, and hang around with Ron and Harry. And Ron didn't really like him, which made that activity less than pleasant. So, not knowing what to do, it was over the Christmas holidays that he met the Weasley twins.<p>

He had already seen them before, had exchanged a few words with them in the common room (or more, they talked _at_ him and he grunted in response), and had certainly _heard _ of them and their legendary pranks. For all that, however, he couldn't really say he knew them.

"So, you must be Zoro, right?" one of them asked. He couldn't bother even attempting to figure out which one was which. "Can we sit here?" "I challenge you to an arm-wrestling match!" He eyed them carefully, finally nodding to both of their requests. "What happens to the loser?" he demanded suspiciously. "The loser has to eat this!" the red-haired one answered, cheerfully holding up a small, smooth yellow marble. He had a moment of pause in which he attempted to figure out why he was trying to differentiate them based on the color of their hair. Then he wondered why he was even attempting to differentiate them in the first place. "And what is that?" he questioned, still suspicious. "One of our most recent productions. We need someone to experiment on," they whispered in unison. Zoro raised an eyebrow and shrugged, finally putting his elbow out on the table, hand ready to grip his challenger's fingers. The two grinned, and one of them sat down across from him. The other counted down. "Three... Two... One... Start!" Gred? Forge? George? Fred? Whoever it was pressed down with all his might, but Zoro's arm was as immovable as stone. "Bloody... Hell!" he aclaimed, face red from exertion. Zoro smirked and pushed down. His opponent's arm hit the wooden table with a resounding, determined thud. "There you go! You owe me a Sickle, Gred! I told you you'd never win!" his twin announced, pounding his look-alike heartily on the back. Thank you for winning me my bet, Mr Roronoa!" he continued jovially, gripping his hand and shaking it heartily. Zoro looked bewildered. The loser put on a fake disappointed look and resignedly swallowed the yellow pill. Moments later, Zoro's jaw hung open as Gred's hair (including eyebrows and lashes) turned bright yellow. The color clashed with the freckles, and overall made him look like an idiot. Forge volunteered, "Congratulations on looking like that Malfoy ponce!" as the two exchanged a high-five. Really. Zoro could not and probably never would understand those two.

* * *

><p>He hadn't expected to receive any Christmas presents. Really, he hadn't. Okay, so he'd gotten candy for all his dorm mates plus Hermione, and (as an afterthought) for Gred and Forge, in addition to coffee for Snape (since he, for some reason, doubted that the Potions Master had a sweet tooth hidden deep, deep down, and really, he had no idea what else to buy) when he'd been trying to find the Room of Requirement without the help of Sir Caddogan and had somehow ended up in a random, unknown, snow-covered village, but he really hadn't expected anything in return. So, when he woke up Christmas morning, he was tremendously surprised to find a pile of presents at the foot of his bed.<p>

A package garishly wrapped in neon yellow and baby blue paper turned out to be lemon drops accompanied with an anonymous note. It didn't take too much brain power to guess that they were a gift from the headmaster. He had also received candy from Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley twins. He eyed the innocuous package of edible marbles of various colors with an unwarranted amount of suspicion before dropping it in his trunk, along with a mental note to never eat them, or to find a way to feed them to their creators. One last, small box turned out contain a whetstone, rag, and a bottle of oil. "For your swords," the small note read. It was unsigned. Zoro stared, puzzled, at the present, wondering who it was from. The handwriting seemed familiar, somehow, as if he had seen it before but the person had taken pains to hide their identity from him. Odd. He put his presents away in his turnk. A cry arrested his attention, and he rapidly turned to see what Ron had just yelled about. Harry's body had disappeared, leaving only his head floating above nothingness. Zoro stared, amazed, as it reappeared as soon as Harry pulled off a silvery, thick cloak.

He was still staring when the ginger twins (as he had decided to call them) barged in and left a few minutes later, dragging their older brother along with them. Yes, he decided faintly. I will never understand those two.

* * *

><p>Christmas dinner was the most fantastic dinner he'd had so far. <em>At Hogwarts. <em>It was nothing compared to Christmas dinner on the Thousand sunny, surrounded by the crew, eating Sanji's delicious food and drinking as much sake as he could ever want in one evening. The wonderful Hogwarts dinner, in fact, served only to remind him of how much he missed the Strawhats.

He slowly got up, the food suddenly tasting sour in his mouth, and left the room. He wasn't in the mood for festivities anymore.

* * *

><p>He awoke later that night to the sound of Harry climbing out of his bed and putting on his cloak. He listened hard as the smaller boy crept out the door and down the stairs, and finally decided to follow. Several corridors down the road, he realized they were walking to the library. Harry immediately crossed over to the Restricted Section, browsed the books and pulled one down, letting it fall open on his knee.<p>

A piercing bloodcurdling shriek split the silence. The book was screaming! Harry snapped it shut and stumbled backwards, Zoro already making his way to the door to the library, pulling it open, waiting for Harry to exit in the shadows near the doorway. Harry tore past him, running, and Zoro hastened to fall into step behind him. They fled through the castle, finally stopping in an abandoned classroom - Hogwarts was full of those. Zoro willed himself to fade into the shadows as he took in the emptiness of the room, apart from the ornate gilded mirror that dominatedthe room. As high as the celing, it stood proudly on two clawed feet in all its golden glory, topped by a carved, flowing inscription: _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. _Zoro watched as Harry stood transfixed before the reflection, nose and glasses practically touching the silvery surface. "Mom?" he whispered. "Dad?" Did this mirror show your family? Zoro wondered. _What would I see?_ In any case, if he wanted to find, he would have to wait his turn. And based on how Harry was acting, his turn wouldn't be any time soon. He dozed off in the darkness, sitting cross-legged, until Harry's retreat from the room displaced the air around him and brought him back to full alertness. As soon as Harry was gone, he stood slowly, almost unsurely (except that he couldn't be unsure, no, not him) and stepped towards the mirror. He gasped; the mirror showed him napping on the Thousand Sunny as the crew went about their lives around him. The whole picture gleamed with bliss, from Sanji yelling at him and Robin laughing behind her hand, to Nami sipping at some exotic drink and Luffy with the other two idiots chasing each other around and pretending to be himself and the curlybrow. How he wished he could be there... He shook his head to clear it of such thoughts and turned away, determined. He would find a way back to the Thousand Sunny, back to his crewmates. Back home. He would do it.

The next night, when he heard Harry and Ron whispering frantically to each other as they departed in search of the Mirror, he merely rolled over and went back to sleep. He didn't need a mirror to show him what he could accomplish on his own.


End file.
